


Look Me in the Eyes, Tell Me What You See

by NyxEtoile



Series: Syn and Loki Multiverse (Dark Inside AUs) [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile
Summary: "Oh for-" Syn threw up her hands and let them slam on the table, clattering her place setting. "You bargained away my entire life years before I was born and you hope the All-Father would just forget?""Don't be dramatic," her father snapped. "Queen of all the realms is hardly a life of torment.""You're to be Thor's advisor," Odin said, with dangerous quiet Thor usually got his rage. Loki almost always got the deadly calm. "Is that not power enough?""It's not the power I want," he replied with equal calm. "It's the mention I miss." He got to his feet, no longer in the mood to play this game. "You wouldn't think I'd want that, would you?"
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Syn (Norse Religion & Lore)
Series: Syn and Loki Multiverse (Dark Inside AUs) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/165095
Comments: 99
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is not finished, because 2020 and mental health and such. But I am working on it fairly regularly, and want your guys input on it as I work to figure out how to end it. Plus don't we all need more Syn/Loki banter in our lives?
> 
> Title from Imagine Dragons' song "Bad Liar"

As a princess, Syn was, ironically, used to being ordered around. There were, after all, three people in the royal family who outranked her, as well as an entire council and numerous advisors and secretaries. Her whole life was full of meeting this lord or lady, attending this meeting, celebrating this grand opening, and dressing for this ball. Despite what the fairy tales had told her, princesshood was a rather busy job.

So it wasn't surprising or suspicious to learn that she'd be going on a diplomatic mission to Asgard with her brother and mother. It was hardly her first trip to Asgard, though she was quick to learn it would be her longest.

"Six weeks?" she asked her mother over dinner that evening. "That's the whole season. We'll miss Midsummer."

"There will be other Midsummers," her mother said. "And Asgard has its own celebration you can attend."

"But why such a long trip? I don't recall ever having such a long stay in another realm."

Her mother turned and looked at the king. "Yes, Hoenir, dear. Why _are_ we going to stay so long?"

He cleared his throat once, twice, then his face started to flush in a way that certainly meant he was trying to lie. Immediately, Syn was on high alert. Across from her, Boe had put his spoon down and was watching their father with amused interest. Hoenir the Just had lived with the truth curse twice as long as they had and certainly had his fair share of loop holes and work arounds for it. He would never had made it so far as a king and realm ruler without them. But he lost all his guile when it came to lying to family. Not least of all because she and Boe could tell in an instant when he was doing it.

"Odin and I have a long standing agreement that is nearing its fruition," Father finally managed. "It's your job to see it goes smoothly. That might take some time."

It was a perfectly reasonable answer, if not for the fact he was still beet-red and choosing his words _very_ carefully. "What' the agreement?" she asked flatly.

Father gave Mama an accusatory look, mouth pressed into a thin line. Syn knew from experience that whatever the truth was felt like it was pushing against said lips to get out.

"Oh, for spirits' sake, out with it," Boe said after a tense moment. "The anticipation is palpable."

"A betrothal agreement," her father said in a rush.

Syn's scalp prickled and she tasted something sour that had nothing to do with the fine fish stew she'd been eating. "Betrothal."

"Made when Odin 'united' the realms," her mother said, refilling Hoenir's water glass as if rewarding him for being out with it. "Some submitted willingly, others under the sword. And some, like your father, bargained."

"The realms united before I was born," Syn said. "How could I have been part of any betrothal agreement."

"Now, sister," Boe drawled. "Don't presume. Perhaps I'm to marry the heir apparent and you're there to chaperone."

Father snorted. "And alienate my Captain of the Guard? I think not. He'd start a war just on principle."

Boe grinned, possibly at the image of Colm raising an army for him, but likely because Father's casual acceptance of his relationship still delighted him.

"Thor was a child," Mama said, answering Syn's question. "And Frigga was likely pregnant with the younger son at the time. We were young and knew having more children was likely. It was a gamble, but Odin wanted and end to his campaigning, so he was willing to take it. A few years later you came along."

"And now it's time for the gamble to pay off?" Syn was very proud of how steady her voice was considering she really wanted to find a pillow to scream into and then set on fire.

"Odin is old," Father said. "He's looking to give the throne to Thor and enjoy his remaining years with Frigga. He thinks it best if Thor was settled with a wife when he did so. I agree with him. Marriage certainly did him well. And it was an arranged one," he added pointedly.

"Such things were common place four thousand years ago," she retorted. "And how have we gone my entire life with this never being mentioned?"

Her father sipped his water, a muscle in his jaw flexing. Her mother answered for him, "We hoped Odin would never come to collect."

"Oh for-" She threw up her hands and let them slam on the table, clattering her place setting. "You bargained away my entire life years before I was born and you hope the All-Father would just _forget_?"

"Don't be dramatic," her father snapped. "Queen of all the realms is hardly a life of torment."

"I'd agree with you if I were choosing to live it. But I've spend my life thinking I'd get to live one way and now you've informed me I have, what? Six weeks to adjust to a new one?" He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. "And don't tell me to calm down. You knew I'd be upset or you wouldn't have tried to hide this from me. Were you going to send me to Asgard completely blind? Or get it out in a rush just before the Bifrost dropped?"

It was suddenly hard to breathe, as if the walls were closing in. She wanted to scream. She was afraid she was about to cry. So she flattened her palms on the table, shoved herself to her feet and left the room. No one called out after her, though she'd half expected her father to tell her she wasn't excused.

The walk to her room passed in a blur. There, at least, she was able to get her pillow screaming done with. It helped a bit. She seriously considered breaking some things, maybe even dramatically ripping up a few of the dresses she'd planned to bring to Asgard. But she was, regrettably, a pragmatic person at heart and knew it would only cause someone else more work.

She was sitting on her bed, glowering into the middle distance, when there came a knock at her door and her brother poked his head in. "Oh good," he said, opening the door fully to come in, Colm at his heels. "I half expected to find you gone, having rappelled out your window by your bedsheets."

"I'd never stage an escape without warning Colm," Syn informed him. "Else on of the night guards shoot me from the tower."

Colm grunted in approval, taking a seat by her cold fireplace. Boe having no such sense of decorum, flopped next to her on the bed. "I've updated him on your predicament," her brother told her. "He probably would have let you go."

"The watch changes over half an hour before sunrise," Colm offered. "I won't even punish whichever one you sneak by."

Syn smiled thinly. "I'll keep it in mind." She looked over at Boe. "I'm not being unreasonable, am I? This is an awful situation."

He reached over and patted her hip affectionately. "As someone who lived most of his formative years terrified one of our parents was going to produce some Lord's daughter and proclaim I had to marry her, I sympathize entirely. This isn't the Dark Ages, people should pick their own spouses." He tucked his hand back under his head. "If it gives you any comfort, Thor's not a bad sort."

She supposed he'd know better than her. She knew Thor in the vague, polite way one knew the children of their parent's friends. Asgard tended to be rather rigid in their gender roles, so on previous state visits she'd been ensconced in a parlor with her mother and Frigga while the men went off and did whatever it was they did. Even when they were children, while Boe would happily include her in his war games, Thor - and his brother - had brushed her off as a girl and she'd ended up left alone.

It seemed wrong to blame a grown man for his actions as a child, but the dismissal still stung, just a little. 

"Do you think we'd suit?" she asked Boe. "Thor and I. Do you think we could be married and be happy?" If she could have some sort of hope for the future, she could get through this.

Propping up on his elbows, he squinted at her a moment, then sighed. "He's a very nice fellow. But no, I think you'd drive each other mad the first year."

Sighing, Syn flopped down next to him. "About that escape route."

"There's another option," Colm offered.

"Ritual suicide?"

"You rival Boe in your melodrama sometimes, you know that?"

Boe pointed at him theatrically. "You take that back, you wretch!"

Colm sighed deeply. "As I was saying. You could simply go to Asgard and see if Thor wants to marry you."

Syn propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. "Are you implying I'm unmarriable?"

Colm ignored her as he had Boe, with a deep sigh. "I mean, a man Thor's age might have something to say about marrying a woman he probably couldn't pick out of a crowd, just because his Papa says so."

Now Boe sat up. "When ones 'Papa' is Odin the All-Father, one might not get much of a vote."

"True enough. But Thor's never stuck me as weak willed. Nor a man who'd force a woman who weren't willing. Could be he's playing along. Could be he's as pissed as you and will be happy to know you're uninterested. All I'm saying is, you're planning a war and you haven't figured out who your allies are yet."

Boe leaned over to whisper, "He's adorable when he uses war metaphors, isn't he?"

"All politics is war, prince," Colm told him, the title sounding like a private pet name when he said it. "You haven't noticed because you keep winning."

Syn arched a brow at him, then at her brother. "He's right, you know. The king never notices the chess game until the enemy closes in. Us pawns on the other hand. . ."

"He's right about you and melodrama, you know."

"Well, I learned from the best." She kissed his cheek and pushed him back down. "You'll be with me, right? In Asgard?"

"Watching your back, as always, little sister," he confirmed, saluting her. "Along with my favorite man-at-arms."

She looked swiftly back at Colm. "You're coming?"

He shrugged easily. "Three quarters of the royal family is going, seems right I should be there are guard."

Asgard was hardly enemy territory, her current predicament notwithstanding. "You hate riding the Bifrost."

"Hate worrying about you idiots more."

That was worth jumping off the bed and hugging him. He actually hugged her back, a novelty, and bussed a kiss to her cheek. "You're no pawn, pet. You're the bishop, coming from the side when least expected. Don't ever forget it."

"Thank you," she aid softly.

He patted her back and she straightened. "We'll sort it out, Syn," he told her. "You have my word."

They left for Asgard two days later. She made a point of sulking a bit in front of her father. Just because she felt slightly better with Boe and Colm at her side didn't mean she'd forgiven him for getting her into this mess.

She did kiss him goodbye when it was time to call the Bifrost. He held her tightly when she did so, lifting off her feet a little like she was still a little girl. "Try to have fun," he said when he set her down.

Trips to Asgard were almost never what one might call "fun" but it seemed needlessly cruel to tell him that. She couldn't lie and promise she would have fun, because she was fairly set on the idea this was going to be the absolute opposite of fun, so she went with, "I'm looking forward to seeing their summer celebrations." It was true, and apparently optimistic enough to satisfy him. He gave her one last squeeze before she stepped back to join the others.

Her mother glanced heavenward. "Heimdal? If you please." Father lifted a hand in farewell just as the rainbow light of the Bifrost enveloped them.

The were greeted at the gate by Heimdal, the Gatekeeper, and a collection of servants who would deal with their luggage.

Her mother greeted Heimdal warmly. The enormous Asgardian had always been cordial, even kind when they visited, but there was something about him Syn found very intimidating. Perhaps it was because he was rumored to be able to see everyone, wherever they were. She imagined she wasn't interesting enough to spy on, but the fact someone _could_. . .

Shaking off such thoughts, she followed her mother out of the gate house and down the long bridge that led to Asgard proper. It was as gleaming and gold as it had always been. Syn had grown up in a palace, but Alfheim favored won and other natural materials in its building and decorating. Her rooms at home might be opulent, but the walls were panel oak and the floors covered in soft carpet and plush furniture. Asgard always felt cold and unwelcoming, full of gleaming marble and furniture designed for looking at, not sitting on.

The glimpses she'd gotten of the rest of the city weren't like that. The millers and dressmakers didn't seem to surround themselves in cold stone and metal. She assumed the palace had been built by some grandstanding ancestor of Odin's and the opulence had simply been handed down generation to generation.

Frigga was from Vanaheim, which was, if possibly, even more agrarian than Alfheim. Syn would put good money on the queen's private quarters being warm and homey. She supposed if she did marry Thor she'd have to find some spot of her own to decorate to her own tastes.

Ugh, what a miserable thought. To live out the rest of her life wearing a mask whenever she was out in public, only herself when ensconced in her sanctuary. Her parents and the court might occasionally be flummoxed by her and Boe, but they had never asked her to be anything other than what she was. Until now.

_Focus, Syn._ She had only just arrived and she was planning her funeral. Colm was right. Don't lose the war before you know who you're really fighting.

They stopped at the entrance to Asgard's enormous throne room, her mother in the front, Syn and Boe at either side and just behind, Colm at the back. She'd done this a dozen times, waiting to be announced for some event or visit. Half the time, the princes weren't even there. Today, she was quite certain they would be.  
Boe cast a glance over at her. "Ready for war?" he mouthed.

Behind her mother's back she straightened her shoulders and saluted him, making him grin. Behind her, she head Colm sigh and then the massive doors opened.

*

"Admit it," Loki said, voice pitched low so only his brother could hear him. "You're expecting her to be frail and dumb as a post. Though, it's possible you won't mind that later"

"I'm not expecting anything," Thor hissed back, keeping his eyes on the doors. "I'm sure she's a perfectly fine woman."

"I've heard Alfans have webbed toes."

"She'll be an excellent swimmer, then."

"I'm just saying, there's a window right there. Within jumping out to escape range."

"All the better to throw you out."

"Loki-"

On the other side of the throne, their mother cleared her throat and pinned them with one of her best Looks. The two of them immediately straightened up, as if they were still children holing she wouldn't notice frogs in their pockets.

The grand doors opened and an einherjar at the end announced, "Her Majesty Aoife the Gentle, queen of Alfheim. Prince Boe the Just of Alfheim. Princess Syn the Truthful of Alfheim. Captain of Alfheim's Royal Guard."

The whole court knew the princess was to be Thor's intended - it was the worst kept secret in Asgard at the moment - so nearly everyone's attention turned to the group making their way down the aisle. Thor and Loki were stationed far enough to the side that the crowd blocked their view until the Alfans were two thirds of the way to the throne's dais.

The queen come into view first, tall and stately, in a dark grey gown that dragged on the floor slightly. Aoife was older than their mother, hair gone mostly white, in that ashy way blondes tended to. Her face was more weathered, as well, but she smiled when she came close, greeting Frigga and Odin, and Loki could see the beauty she'd likely been.

The prince Loki knew, he was cut from the same cloth as Thor. Blond, handsome, easy going. His hair was curly and seemed to reject all attempts at a style, sitting in a stubborn mop. His navy tunic and leggings were well tailored, if a little dull compared to Asgardian fashion. Loki knew the man walking at the back of the group was the Captain of the guard, and, if gossip was to be believed, the prince's long-time lover. Loki wondered if the sudden urge to marry of the princess had anything to do with that relationship making producing an heir rather complicated. Odin would likely find the idea of his grandchildren ruling several realms appealing.

The princess was on the other side of her mother from them and he could only get glimpses of her until they came even with the steps of the dais. Lokie's mental image of the process of Alfheim was a quiet, mousy haired girl still out growing her awkward youth. She had always stayed in the parlors or gardens with the queens, so his interactions with her had been limited. She was younger than bot him and Thor, and the only girl of age in the realms, so it had likely always been inevitable she would marry one of them. It had just never occurred to him until Gather had made his announcement.

She was. . . not what he remembered. Any awkwardness she might have had in her youth was gone, replaced by an easy elegance as she stood before the throne. Her hair - which his memory had faded to a nondescript brown - was as curly as her brother's, pulled away from her face with jeweled combs to fall down her back in a waterfall of sandy gold. Her gown was a stormy blue somewhere between he mother and brother's outfits and looked soft and luxurious. 

As the queen and Odin exchanged, the princess's gaze never faltered, studying Odin as a general might survey a battle map. From this distance, Loki couldn't even make out the color of her eyes, but everything in her stance and expression told him she was neither stupid or frail.

When Odin finally addressed her directly, she gave him the barest of curtseys, a dip of her head and knees that left her spine straight as steel. "All-Father. Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to using our stay to learn more about your realm." She had the clipped, short accent of Alfheim and her mouth twisted oddly at the end of her speech. There was no mention of Thor or their expected engagement, but Loki doubted very much she didn't know about it. Her words had been carefully chosen, giving little away. It was well know the Alfan royal family could not lie, even to smooth over feelings, but it was equally known they were masters at loopholes and double speak.

Loki had always admire that about them.

"You all remember my sons, I'm sure."

That was their cue. He and Thor stepped forward obediently and sketched matching bows to the family. The women followed suit, but Boe just waved. "Hey Thor."

Thor grinned. "Boe. Up for a hunt in the morning."

"Always."

Loki hated hunting. And waking up at dawn. But it might be worth tagging along to see what information they could get out of Boe. He'd give Thor credit for knowing enough battle strategy to know when reconnaissance was necessary.

"The guard will show you to your rooms," Odin said. "We'll have a feast this evening to welcome you properly."

"Gods forbid we miss a chance to feast," Loki muttered under his breath. Thor hid his snort of laughter in a snort.

The sound was enough to get the princess's attention, even as her family was turning to go. For a brief instant, Loki met her gaze, sharp and curious. Her mouth quirked into a crooked half smile before she looked away to follow her mother, and Loki had the odd, uncomfortable feeling she'd taken his full measure in that brief moment and now knew all his secrets.

This woman was fascinating.

There were other court matters their father needed to see to, but they didn't need to stick around for them. He slipped out the side door with Thor, the two of them removing their helmets in the same motion. "I'll join you on the hunt," Loki said. "So you don't have to interrogate him alone."

"Maybe I was just asking a friend out for an excursion."

"Then I shall degrade my opinion of you to 'not as smart as I thought' and go about my day."

Thor glowered a little, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. "Boe is a friend," he reiterated. "But he will also probably tell me a bit about his sister's opinions on this whole affair. Which will be useful."

"Ah! Excellent. You remain at 'worth ally' for the foreseeable future."

"Speaking of things that might be useful," he added, giving Loki a sidelong glance.

They stopped in the hallway outside one of the family parlors so Loki could look at him fully. "What unpleasant and possibly nefarious task are you about to ask me to do?" he asked with a sigh.

"Tonight after the feast there's to be dancing and socializing. Ask Syn to dance. Take your measure of her."

Loki almost gaped at him, open mouth and all, but managed to contain himself. "Why don't you do it? You are her future betrothed, after all."

"Whatever my strengths as a tactician, you are far better with words than I am and we both now it. You'll know more about her in four minutes of dance then I would in four days of talking."

"I feel like you're flattering me to get me to agree." Annoyingly, it might be working.

"Is it flattery when it's the truth?" Thor had his best innocent puppy dog expression on, which was equally annoying.

There was only one way to end this conversation. "Fine. One dance."

Grinning in triumph, Thor continued strolling down the hall. "I look forward to you putting those dance lessons to use, brother."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Telchara for beta services, starting with this chapter. I don't have the mental bandwidth for even my usual halfhearted typo ferreting and Tel is doing a great job.

Royal parties, in Loki's experience, tended to be dreadfully dull. There was hardly ever any gossip that interested him, Thor usually got far more attention that he did, and there was dancing. Mother had tried valiantly to make dancers of the two of them. Thor could plod through a few simple steps and smile charmingly enough his partners never seemed to mind the crushed toes or bruised ankles. Loki, being more agile by nature, had yet to meet a dance he couldn't master, but he still avoided them whenever possible. Save for a few very old reels, most dancing required far more touching than he generally liked.

Touching meant someone might notice the chill of his skin. Which might lead them to suspect something. And while he had come to terms with the truth of his parentage long ago, it was still kept a secret from the world. A secret he would really prefer stayed that way. It was likely an irrational fear - lots of people had cold hands, he presumed - but weren't those the worst kind of fears. The ones that couldn't be logiced away.

Still, he'd promised Thor he'd find a chance to dance with the princess and he'd do it. Far be it from him to deny his brother a little useful information. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he was a bit curious about her himself. No, nothing of the sort. Loki was not a man to let curiosity get the better of his common sense.

The feast took up half the night, as always, before everyone retired to a series of parlors and rooms for mingling. It was late enough a few people seemed to be peeling off to make a polite exit, but to his relief, the Alfans seemed determined to see this welcoming party through to the end. They had, regrettably, spread out, and he was a bit concerned he was going to have to stalk the poor woman until she stumbled her way into one of the rooms with music.

Luck appeared to be on his side, as he found her in the main ballroom, though not among the crowd. Instead, she was off to the side, looking out the wall of windows that showed a panoramic view of the Bifrost and the sea of stars beneath it. Her distraction allowed him to get close without her noticing, and he took the opportunity to study her.

Her dress was the same midnight blue of the sky outside, dotted with jewels to mimic stars. It left most of her back bare, revealing a broad expanse of pale skin, smattered with freckles and marred by a scar along her left shoulder blade. Her hair had been intricately braided and woven into a knot at the back of her head. He had no idea how someone got that much hair up and secured but he honestly had to wonder if magic was involved.

She studied the view as if it held the answers to the universe. Possibly it did, but that was a question for philosophers or physicists and Loki was neither. Still, there was something about her stance and the tilt of her head that seemed almost wistful. He felt a pang for her then, a moment of true empathy. To be a second child of a king, with your life planned out for you before you've had a chance to live it.

He had never been particularly good with women. A king's son never wanted for company, even a second son standing in a shadow as large as Thor's. He had never had a relationship or courtship, most of his sex could best be descried as transactional. A nod, a smile, and an agreement that had no future. It was how he liked things. Relations and emotions complicated things and his life had more than enough complications as it was. So despite his charm and lessons, he really couldn't remember the last time he'd had to approach a woman for a dance.

In the end, for good or ill, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied."

She turned to look at him and he had the pleasure of watching her face flick from confusion to recognition to amusement in the course of a few heartbeats. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're like me," he continued, holding his hand out for hers. "I'm never satisfied."

Her eyes were the green of new leaves and currently sparkling with interest. She slipped her hand into his. "Is that right?"

He bent and kissed her knuckles before looking up at her through his lashes. "Dance with me?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, fingers tightening on his as he drew her out onto the dance floor.

They were playing something slow, an old folk hymn that his grandfather would have danced to. It was one of his least favorite dances, lots of hand-holding and getting into each other's space. But as he moved into position with her, he found he didn't mind at all. They faced opposite directions, holding hands above their heads, other arms on each other's waists. She was warm and soft under his hand, her gown a rich velvet.

He led her in the first few turns of the dance, watching her face. She was graceful and easy on her feet. Obviously she'd had as many lessons as he had. He twirled her around him, her dress spiraling out around her in a swirl of constellations, then they were holding both hands, turning around the room.

"Is it possible Thor is so intimidated by his potential bride he has to send his brother in to warm her up?" she asked, crooked smile on her lips.

He had to fight a grin at her insight. "My brother is a strategic general. He knows when it's wise to send a forward charge."

"Are you the front troops?" she asked. "Or are you the reconnaissance scouts?"

"A bit of both," he admitted. "You're an enigma, princess."

She held his gaze, shifting her grip on his hand as they moved to a different portion of the dance. "How long has your brother known about the marriage agreement?"

Loki tilted his head at the question. "Years, I suppose. He had a semi serious relationship with a woman when we were younger and Father warned him off."

"Hmm." He twirled her again and when she came back she was flush to his chest, his arm around her waist. "I was told three days ago."

Shock froze him for a bare moment, then they swung into the final, frantic portion of the dance, where there was no time or breath to talk.

The music finished with her in his arms again, both of them breathing hard. She was warm and lightly muscled under her gown, delicate in a way Asgardian women weren't. She smelled of summer flowers and the heaviness before a storm.

"Would you care for a cup of punch?" he asked her, interrogation forgotten.

Her gaze flickered back and forth, studying his face, then her lips quirked up into that sideways smile again. "On one condition."

â€¨"And that is?"

"You'll dance with me again afterwards."

He found himself smiling at her, almost despite himself. "It would be my pleasure."

He was going to be of no use to his brother at all.

*

"I thought you would at least give Thor a chance to make a good impression."

Syn squinted at her mother over her morning tea. She didn't know what they put in Asgardian punch, but it was delicious, potent, and left one with a hell of a headache the morning after. How in all the realms her brother had managed to get up and go hunting at dawn was a mystery to her. She'd barely managed to make it to their shared sitting room to eat breakfast. She was _certainly_ not in the mood for a lecture.

"Mother, we haven't even been here a full day. What have I done to alienate his highness?"

"You danced with his brother three times last night."

She hid a smile in sipping her tea. "He asked me."

"You didn't dance with Thor once."

"He _didn't_ ask me," she replied, giving her mother a pointed look. "It wasn't as if I shunned him to dance with a harem of other eligible men. I didn't even see him in the ballroom. Is it my fault his brother was polite enough to ask?" Polite probably wasn't the best word, but it was accurate enough and her mother would like it.

She huffed and started buttering a scone with extreme prejudice. "I disagree entirely with how your father handled this entire thing. But it's still an agreement between us and Odin and it needs to be honored. I need you to at least try to make it work."

Syn sighed and ate some fruit in the hopes the hydration would kick in faster. "I will try to get to know Thor," she promised. "We've only been here a day and he is spending most of today hunting with Boe. I'm sure he'll put in a good word for me and I promise to be charming and personable at dinner."

Her mother made a humming noise that meant she was more or less mollified and allowed the conversation to drop.

She wasn't entirely sure what all the fuss was. Her father had made it sound like the marriage was a done deal, her feelings about Thor essentially irrelevant. But, she supposed, her mother was feeling guilty about it all, and was trying to make herself feel better. Syn would have preferred less nagging, but she understood the impetus.

Meanwhile, she found herself rather distracted with thoughts of the Odinsson she'd actually spent time with.

_You're like me. I'm never satisfied._

It had been the strangest and somehow most honest opening line she'd ever heard from a man. It was fitting they'd had their first conversation while dancing, as talking to Loki was oddly like a dance. He was clearly smart, but more than that, he was clever. He never gave away more than he wished and she sensed he'd gotten more out of her than she'd realized. It had been somewhat gratifying to have someone outside her family be horrified at how little notice she'd been given about this arrangement. Thor had clearly had years to come to terms with it.Â 

Given that, she really wondered why he hadn't made some sort of effort to know her better. Maybe he, like her parents, had hoped the whole thing would just magically go away.

"What are your plans for the day?" her mother asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

"Hope this headache goes away," she muttered before she could manipulate the truth into something more palatable. Her mother gave her a Look and she sighed. "Once I wake up a bit more I was thinking of trying to find the library and maybe take a walk through the gardens."

Mother smiled softly. "Your two great loves. Books and plants."

Syn lifted a shoulder. "Asgard boasts a proliferation of both." She was trying to find what positives she could. There was a lot she would sacrifice for a library like Asgard was rumored to have.

Her mother left to go meet with some Asgardian nobility she knew and Syn took her time finishing her breakfast and dressing for the day. An inquiry to one of the guards in the guest wing pointed her towards the library. She was expecting to find a nice, large room line with books. Somewhere she could spend an hour or two browsing before taking a few sections back to her rooms or the gardens to read. But when she pushed open the heavy gold door what she found took her breath away.

It was a glorious thing, stretching up several stories and winding back on itself with rows and rows of shelves. Several small reading spots were set up in various corners and nooks. Her footsteps clicked lightly on the marble floor as she went deeper into the room, turning in a circle to take in the entirety of it.

It would take the whole of her long, long life to go through every shelf and level. And even then, she doubted she'd see everything. She could devote all her free time to this room and not even make a dent.

As if in a daze, she wandered to the nearest shelf, letting her fingers trail over the spines. The titles listed there indicated they were history tomes, dating back to the beginning of the realms. The next shelf seemed entirely military campaigns. How very Asgardian. Craning her neck back, she wondered how far she'd have to wander to find some proper fiction.

"I wondered how long it would take you to find your way back here."

Startled, Syn turned to see Frigga standing just inside the door, smiling in that enigmatic way of hers.

Syn dipped a little bow. "Your highness. Have I been here before?" She didn't recall ever visiting the library before, in any of her trips to Asgard.

Her smile softened into something more affectionate. "Once, when you were much younger. I believe it was the first time you visited here. You asked to see the library and your mother agreed you could stay here while we talked. When she came to retrieve you we discovered you'd pulled out nearly a hundred books and scattered them on various tables."

"That sounds like me," Syn said, smiling herself.

Frigga chuckled. "Your mother was mortified, apologizing on your behalf. I tried to assure her that with two boys no mess you could make could ever faze me but I don't think she believed me."

Syn had absolutely no memory of this, but it did explain when she had always been required to stay at her mother's side whenever they had visited. "Well, on behalf of my younger self, I apologize. I think I can restrain myself this time."

"I have every faith in you," Frigga assured her, strolling a little farther into the room.

She reminded Syn more of Loki than Thor. She had the same . . . containment he had. Thor was big and bold and filled the room with his energy. She had only known him out of his prime, but she imagined Odin had been the same when he was young. Loki slipped in the shadows behind him. He had snuck up on her the night before, something no one else had managed in years, even Colm. But once he had your attention it was damn near impossible to think about anything else.

Frigga seemed the same. Quiet, unassuming, but she saw everything. And being alone in a room with her it was impossible to look away. She even dressed like him, lighter colors, but the same cinched and sleek clothes. They even fidgeted their hands the same.

"I presume, given your family, you appreciate speaking plainly?" Frigga asked after a moment's silence.

"It causes less headaches," Syn confirmed.

Another flash of a smile. "You know, Odin and I were a political arrangement. Many centuries ago."

"Yes, my mother mentioned it." Several times. As if one instance of it more or less working out was all the assurance she needed.

"I was. . . not pleased, when I first met him. He was nothing like the men I had encouraged to court me on Vanaheim. I was sure I would spend the rest of my life miserable."

This was Queen Frigga, the All-Mother of the Realms. She should show her great deference and take her wise council. But the woman had suggested they speak plainly, so Syn asked, "How long were you miserable?"

Frigga smiled sadly. "Only the first year or two."

"Let me guess, you became pregnant. And children change everything."

"Cliched, but true. There have been bad times, as there are in any marriage. But we have learned to get through them. Odin has learned to bend when I push. And I have learned the best times to push."

There were things she wasn't saying. Syn could see it on her face, faint shadows of years she would not mention. It was not a hopeful look into the future. To spend your marriage learning how to manipulate your husband. To wear the mask of a perfect wife and queen, even in front of the one who shared your bed.

She wondered who Frigga had been before Odin. What fiery Vanir girl had died in the early years so she could turn aside the misery and find peace.

"I am trying to keep an open mind," Syn said carefully. "This arrangement was a surprise. I'm still coming to terms with it."

"Of course," Frigga said, smiling again. "I just wanted you to know I was here if you needed to talk."

Syn summoned her own smile. "I appreciate that, your highness."

Frigga nodded, clearly seeing that was all she was going to get right now. "Is there anything I can help you find?" she asked, spreading her hands to take in the entirety of the library.

"Poetry?" It wasn't her favorite topic, but it was a good start and would probably be near other light fiction.

"That ladder, second floor."

"Thank you," Syn said, with a little dip of a curtsey. When Frigga said no more, she headed for the ladder. Halfway up, she heard the heavy door open and shut with a quiet thud.

Poetry, to her delight, took up more shelves than the military or ancient histories and contained volumes from several realms. She spent a very pleasant hour browsing the titles, pulling one out, skimming through it and deciding to keep it or put it back. In the end she had a stack of five or six and decided that was as good a time as any to take a break. The library would be there when she finished these. And maybe in the meantime she could get some sort of map to the room.

After a trip back to her room to drop the books off, she took one and headed out to the gardens to find a quiet spot to read.

The royal gardens of Asgard were almost as impressive as her library. Syn considered herself a bit of an expert of plants and still there were whole swaths of flowers she'd never seen before. There was an entire bed of medicinal herbs you could smell from several feet away, and expansive flowerbeds with bees and other pollinators flitting about.

She found a bench underneath a butter apple tree with good light and a nice view of the hills and forest that stretched behind the capital. She imagined that was where her brother and the others had gone off to hunt.

The book she had brought out claimed to be a volume of Asgardian poems about love and war. A few minutes of reading proved that it was far more war than love. The few verses she came across that seemed to be romantic framed seduction and courting in battle and hunting metaphors. Halfway through, she had the distinct impression the only thing Asgardians loved was the heat of battle and the spilling of blood.

Alfan poems tended to be about nature and the spirits and romantic love. She had grown up reading them, memorizing them. Imagining a man quoting one to her while he courted her. She was a little skeptical she could be successfully wooed by lyrical descriptions of viscera and beheading.

That was unfair, one couldn't judge by one book. She had decided to give up and go get one of the other books when she heard hoofbeats and rose to stand at the hedge boundary and look down at the courtyard below. Four horses were coming down the trail leading to the forest. She recognized her brother's curls and Thor's long hair. Clearly the hunt had finished for the day and they were on their way home.

She studied the courtyard and found a path that lead down from the gardens. She could be down there in time to meet them and have a chat with Thor without the pressure of being alone with him.

Sighing, she thought of the promise she'd made to her mother and went to meet the men.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think with some courting she'd be amenable. But as I said, Syn had never been one to do anything just because she's been ordered to do so."

Loki looked skyward as if patience could be found somewhere in the high cloudless sky. His brother had waited until all but the last possible moment to ask Boe for any advice about Syn. Now they were all plodding back to the palace stables, tired and sore from a long day of fruitless riding, listening to a man who couldn't lie try not to admit his sister wanted nothing to do with marrying Thor.

"I don't suppose you have any advice on how to court her?" Thor said, his tone indicating perhaps he'd heard the desperate truth-twisting as well.

"I've spent a good deal of my life trying _not_ to think about Syn being courted. But I imagine it's how you would any other woman."

Behind Thor and Boe's backs, Loki noticed Colm cover his eyes with a sigh. The man had said all of twenty words the whole day, but Loki found he liked him a great deal. He clearly adored Boe and just as clearly hated the politics that loving him required him to put up with.

"Asgardian women don't generally need me to court them," Thor admitted. "They just sort of. . . know who I am and throw themselves at me."

Loki made a mental note to tell Sif about Thor's assessment of Asgardian women.

"Both of you shut up," Colm said. "Syn's coming."

They all looked in the direction he indicated and saw her strolling down the garden path towards the stable yard. When she saw she had their attention she lifted a hand in greeting.

Boe grinned and nudged his horse towards her. "Hello, sister. Did you enjoy your hangover?"

She caught his stallion's bridle, giving her brother a look of exasperation. "No one warned me about the punch."

Thor gave Loki a stern look that he deliberately ignored.

"How went the hunting?" Syn asked, stroking the horse's neck.

"Poorly," Boe told her, dismounting gracefully. "We could have used your bow and aim."

"Maybe next time I'll be invited," she said good-naturedly.

"Do you shoot?" Thor asked, handing his mount off to a groom.

She turned her smile to him. "I do. Better than Boe."

Thor grinned. "We should definitely extend an invitation next time. Is it common for women to learn archery on Alfheim?"

"Only the very stubborn ones," she told him, prompting a snort from Boe and a laugh from Thor.

He noticed then the book tucked under her arm and gestured to it. "Made yourself home in the library, I see."

Loki had been busy handing his horse off, but looked over at the awkward courtship in time to see her face light up. "I did," she said, turning the book for Thor to see the cover. "I'm sampling Asgardian poetry."

Thor rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah. And what did you think?"

"A bit more bloodshed than I'm used to in my verse," she admitted. "I don't suppose you have a volume or author you might suggest?"

"I, uh, am not much for poetry. If you happen to find yourself in need of a good history volume. . ."

"Oh." Her face fell a bit, but she tried to hide it. "Of course."

Loki looked away, second hand embarrassment making the awkwardness damn near unbearable. He happened to catch Colm's eye. He was watching the proceedings with a disapproving frown. He met Loki's gaze and whatever he saw there made him smirk and shake his head.

Apparently taking pity on the awkwardly flirting couple, Boe said, "Sister, I haven't managed to find anything in the palace yet. Care to show me the way to the library? And possibly leave a trail of crumbs to my rooms?"

Loki would have bet a significant portion of his inheritance that Colm knew exactly where their rooms were, as well as the library, the armory and probably the dungeons. Syn probably knew that too, based on the grateful smile she tossed her brother. "Of course." She reached to take his arm then seemed to remember herself and smiled at Thor. "I'll see you at supper?"

He nodded and gave her a little bow. "I look forward to it."

The siblings walked away, Colm trailing a few steps behind. Loki half expected him to turn and give Thor a look over his shoulder, but the older man refrained.

"I don't suppose you could give me a crash course in Asgardian poetry?" Thor asked, watching them go.

"By supper? Not a comprehensive one." Thor sank a bit and Loki sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy for his brother. "I _can_ give you the names of a few poets who managed to write a few poems about something other than the glory of battle."

He grinned and clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder.

After that, Thor managed to spend a few days entertaining the princess without Loki's help. Not that he was keeping tabs on it. Little interested him less than the most forced courtship in all the realms. He heard about it mostly from court gossip. They went here or did this and she wore that. He'd counted three private meals, a trip to the cliffs over the star sea, and one to the main part of the capital. Whatever group of courtiers had hoped the arrangement would be sunk were starting to lose hope. Some of them had started to turn to him as a reasonable second choice, something he found less than flattering.

His mother, at least, seemed pleased with the way things were progressing.  
â€¨"They seem to be getting on quite well," she commented when he visited her in her parlor. It had been a tradition since he was a small child to spend an hour or two once a week keeping her company in her parlor. In the beginning it had been a time for her to work on his magic with him. As he grew more confident in his powers it had simply become a nice, quiet time for them to chat. Sometimes he helped her wind yarn or untangle threads. Currently she was working on a complicated tapestry on her loom and he had little to do but sit and chat and occasionally hand her a new color.

"So it will be an autumn wedding?" he asked, playing cat's cradle with a bit of black thread she'd trimmed off.

Ignoring the sarcasm in his tone, she replied, "A royal wedding of this caliber will take at least a year to plan. Possibly longer."

"And how long until they are being nagged for an heir?"

"Mmm, the advisors managed to wait two years before pestering me. I don't know if your father was getting hints before that. Of course, Thor is younger than he was, so perhaps they'll get a full decade before anyone fusses."

"Hmm." He dropped a loop and cursed, slipping the whole thing off to start over.Â 

"Is something wrong, dear?" his mother asked, glancing over at him.

"What could possibly be wrong?" He managed to get the string to cooperate this time. "I live to see my brother happy."

"And do you think he's happy?" she asked, now looking at him fully.

He had a flip answer ready to go, rolling around on the tip of his tongue, but decided to bite it back and answer truthfully. "I don't know. I think he's trying to please Father. Whatever his actual thoughts on the princess and marriage, he hasn't spoken them to me."

Mother's mouth thinned and she tried to hide her expression with a sudden interest in the warp density. Which likely meant he'd just hit on a concern she'd had. "Have you spoken to the princess much?"

Unbidden, he recalled the feel of her dancing in his arms, the soft warmth of her hand and plush of her gown as she turned. "We danced, her first night here. Thor asked me to do some reconnaissance. But not much since then."

"Was your reconnaissance successful?" his mother asked, in a tone that sounded light but was anything but.

"Not terribly." Not to Thor, anyway. "Her brother was more useful, and now Thor has managed to venture forth himself." Near as he could tell Syn hadn't had a moment to herself in the last week.

"Well then. I suppose we'll just have to rely on Thor's charms to win the day."

Loki sighed dramatically. "I'll ready the troops for war." His mother's mouth twitched and she attempted to give him a quelling look, but it dissolved into laughter all the same.

He left her to her weaving soon after, lest he be sucked into any further palace gossip. His brother wasn't in any of the usual haunts, and one of the guards said he had gone to the pub with Volstagg and another said falconing with Lady Sif, which either meant he was having a very busy day or simply didn't want to be found.

At loose ends, Loki found himself wandering into the library. It was usually an excellent place to be alone and find a distraction. Today, however, he found Princess Syn tucked onto the second floor balcony, surrounded by a stack of books, one leg dangling gracefully through the bars.

Not alone, but possibly distracting.

"My lady," he said politely, climbing the spiral stair closest to her. At the top, he bowed appropriately. "Has my brother left you to your own devices today? Or did I miss him skulking about the military section?"

She smiled, looking up from the book she was reading. "Prince Loki. I am without my companion today. He said he had royal matters to attend to up north."

Loki frowned. He didn't know of any issues in the north, nor could he think of any groups in that direction that might be causing trouble. Certainly his mother would have mentioned-

"I think he forgot I could tell when he lies," Syn added gently, clearly seeing the confusion on his face. "I imagine he needed a break from entertaining me but didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"That does sound like him," he said, coming closer and sitting on the tiled floor beside her. "Poetry?" he asked, tilting his head down to glance at the book in her lap.

"Yes. An author your brother recommended, actually." She ran her hand over the cover. "I'm enjoying it much more than the other ones I found. He said he read it during his schooling and had only just remembered it." She met Loki's gaze, a soft smile on her lips. "He often forgets I can tell when he lies. Did you give him the name?"

Ducking his head, Loki sighed at his brother's attempts at guile. "I may have mentioned - offhand - a particular volume I read as a melodramatic youth."

She chuckled softly, the sound curling around him and warming his skin oddly. "Well. I enjoy your melodramatic tastes."

"Thor isn't a complete fool," he said, struck by a sudden need to defend the poor oaf. "He just doesn't tend to the more literary pursuits."

Syn waved a hand, shaking her head. "No, I know. He's actually quite fun to talk to. He know a great deal about the history of the realms, even Alfheim. And when he stumbles upon something I don't know he explains it very well. Likes to draw diagrams."

"He was always a visual learner," Loki said, partially to himself. "Probably why he never latched on to any particular literature."

She nodded slowly, then sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. "I don't think he's stupid. He's smart and funny and occasionally quite charming. A girl would be lucky to have him court her properly."

Loki arched a brow. "But?"

She sighed again, shoulders slumping. "I don't think I want to marry him. And I don't think he wants to marry me. And yet we're both stuck in this ridiculous charade to make our fathers happy."

He appreciated anyone who could see their position so clearly. Especially when it was a terrible position to be in. Shifting, he settled next to her against the wall. "I suppose we all find ourselves trapped by our responsibilities."

Nodding, she traced the embossed vines and flowers on the cover of her book. "I remember the first time I realized that. That my life was not my own. I was a little girl, and Boe and I had raced to climb a tree but I fell." She touched her shoulder, where he'd noticed a scar the first night. "A branch went through me. Boe managed to carry me all the way back home and my mother and the healers got to work. I barely remember any of it, other than the pain and not being able to move my arm. But during the night, when I was starting to recover, I remember one of the younger healers saying it was a pity I would scar, because some men would find it off putting, even on a princess."

Loki was well familiar with the feeling of being a pawn in a bigger game. He'd had almost as many years as her to get used to it. Still, it never sat well or grew easy. Sympathetic, he reached over and touched her arm.

Startling a little at the contact, she turned her head to look over at him. Her eyes were such a brilliant green. His favorite color.

That inane thought was the last thing that went through his head before he leaned over and kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Syn had plenty of time to think about the kiss in the library, but almost no opportunities to actually talk to anyone about it. Thor had apparently decided to ease off his head on assault style of courtship, which was good. She'd appreciated the effort, but her patience for anyone but her closest friends and family was very short. A few days left to her own devices was exactly what she needed. 

Unfortunately, her mother had decided to fill in the holes in her schedule, dragging her along to various parties and teas with Asgardian nobility she knew. Syn could smile and nod with the best of them, but she was rapidly reaching her limit when it came to strangers and people and putting on her company manners.

It all came to a head when the weather shifted to full summer and her Alfan wardrobe proved entirely insufficient to an Asgardian summer. Alfheim in general had a more temperate climate than Asgard, with only certain mountain ranges seeing snow, and almost nowhere with extreme heat. The capital she had spent her life in was near the sea and saw almost no severe weather in either direction. Asgard, on the other hand, had snowy winters and hot, wet summers. Syn's stays and multiple layers of skirt were downright tortuous in the humid heat. It took two days and the interference of Frigga to convince her mother to let her go shop in the marketplace for some weather appropriate dresses. She insisted on coming, unfortunately, but Syn managed to convince Boe and Colm to tag along for back up.

Agardian style favored a much thinner silhouette and single layers. It was easy to find sleeveless dresses in jewel colors that fit well. Her mother frowned and grumped at the amount of skin showing, but Syn was stubborn and Boe could convince a Jotun they needed ice if he tried, so she didn't refuse any of the purchases.

Syn wore one of her new gowns, a dark night-sky blue affair with only one sleeve and a ruched bodice that was more than sufficient to hold her in place. It was delightfully cool in the hot sun, the rich silk breathing as if she was naked.

Colm went ahead with her mother so she and Boe could wander the marketplace a bit and shop in peace. Now was the time to tell him what had been on her mind, but he beat her to it.

"I'm thinking of asking Colm to marry me," he said, idly turning a heavy metal bracelet in his hands.

Immediately forgetting her own romantic troubles, Syn whirled to look at him. "Only thinking?"

"Well." He cleared his throat. "More like seriously considering it, might even be looking for a few betrothal gifts."

She resisted squealing and doing a little dance, but it was a close thing. "I'm so happy for you!"

"You don't think Mother and Father will disapprove?"

At this particular moment in time, she didn't really give two shits what Mother and Father thought, but that wasn't really helpful to him. "I think if they disapproved of you two you'd know already. I've never heard of either of them say a negative word about your relationship, have you?"

He shook his head, curls flopping adorably. "No. I'm just. . . it's big." He put the bracelet back on the merchant's table and wandered over to another stall.

Syn followed at his heel. "Are you worried he'll say no?" Boe didn't respond, which was answer enough. "Boe, darling. He adores you."

"I know. I actually don't doubt that a moment. But he hates the royal palace life. All of it. I think I can arrange for him to stay as the General, but he'll have duties as my husband and I just worry. . . I'm not worth putting up with it all."

Hurrying her steps, she got in front of him and stomped her foot so he'd stop. "Don't you dare talk about my brother that way. You are sweet and charming and too smart for your own good. You are loyal and loving and worth far more suffering than having to smile and shake hands at the occasional royal function. And I'll bet anything you like that Colm thinks exactly the same thing."Â 

He hesitated a moment, then broke into one of his wide, brilliant grins. "In that case, what do you think I should get him for his first gift?"

"A knife. Obviously." She tucked her arm through his. "Come. Let's find a blade smith worthy of your future betrothed."

It took almost as long to find a few perfect gifts as it had to find her half a dozen gowns. She was never going to let her brother tease her about her shopping habits again. The afternoon shadows were stretching out across the courtyard when they finally made it back to the palace. Syn had sampled a few street foods while in the market, but none had been particularly filling - or healthy - and she was absolutely famished.

Thor was in the courtyard when they arrived, wiping down his horse after what looked like a long ride. He offered them a smile when he saw they and sauntered over. She had to admit, he looked very nice in his riding leathers, long hair a bit shaggy and windblown.

"Well met," he said, voice rumbling in the lower tones. "Busy day at the market?"

"Very," Boe said, giving her a sly look. "I'll take my leave now, sister. Do you mind if I leave my purchases in your room?"

"Feel free. As long as you don't leave a spider in my bed as well."

He laughed, giving Thor a nod as he walked off.  
â€¨Thor was chuckling. "I see your brother was as free with pranks as mine was. Though Loki preferred snakes to spiders."

She was not at all surprised by that bit of news. "Boe learned quickly that pulling a trick on me meant I would retaliate ten fold."

"Did it teach him anything?"

"The chain of escalation."

He laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the distant garden wall. He seemed far more engaged in conversation than he had recently, which she found a bit odd. Perhaps he had needed a break from socialization as much as she had? He didn't seem the type, but perhaps he was just a better actor than her.

"I was hoping to find an early supper," she offered. "I don't suppose you'd care to join me?"

"My pleasure." He offered his arm and they walked into the palace together.

As a guest and the heir presumptive, they were given a mini feast when they appeared in the kitchens for food. She found herself enjoying a rather intimate meal with him on a covered balcony overlooking the gardens.

"My impressions of Asgard have always been of the palace," she said as they filled their plates from the platters that had been brought out. "It was novel to see the marketplace."

"What did you think?" Thor asked, filling her cup with mead.

"Your city planning is very confusing." She had a decent sense of direction, but Boe could get lost in the palace at home and they'd had several moments of standing at a cross roads trying to figure out which way to go. They'd asked directions a few times. Well, she had.

"Between being built on the mountain and fighting off barbarians and invaders several times in our infancy, Asgard is a bit of a muddle," Thor admitted. "Loki likes to say it was designed by drunkards, set on fire, and then rebuilt by morons."

That had been more or less her assessment. "You and your brother are very close, aren't you?"

"We are. Much like you and Boe, I believe. We were raised together, very close in age. We are very different, in many ways. But I like to think we support each other well. Our strengths balance the other's weaknesses."

There were odd little shadows on his face as he said that. Not lies, he believed everything he had said. But perhaps confusion or concern. As if perhaps he worried that Loki - or others - didn't agree.

"Boe and I are similar in many ways, but in the ways we differ it does seem we benefit from the other's counsel."

He smiled. "Exactly. There was a time when I was younger I refused all advice, even from Loki. Thought I knew everything. Made some serious mistakes that could have cost everything. I like to think I've grown up."

"So now you do take advice."

"I try to," he said, ducking his head a little.

Syn sipped her mead. "We're always growing, I suppose. There's always more to learn."

He met her eyes, then seemed to sweep his gaze over her. "There certainly is."

It occurred to her then that perhaps the difference in his interest was her Asgardian gown. Surely he'd been attracted to her before - she'd never seen a lie in his compliments - but the gown had made some sort of difference. She wondered what it was.

The rest of dinner passed pleasantly. He really was a wonderful man. There were far worse potential husbands in the world. She should stop dithering and just accept this. He would be a good husband, a good companion. In time affection could grow to love. That was what Frigga would likely tell her.

After the meal, Thor walked her to her rooms, still the complete gentleman. "I had a nice time," he said when they reached the door. "I hope you did too."

"I did," she said sincerely. "You're a lovely conversationalist."

He chuckled. "You might be the first to say so. But thank you."

"Well, I like to think I see a bit more than most do." She looked up at him, weighing her options even while the weight of her obligations settled on her like a shroud. Stretching up on her toes as far as she could, she kissed him.  
â€¨There was a moment when he didn't react, clearly surprised by the gesture. Then he slid an arm around her waist and kissed her back.

He was. . . a very good kisser. Intuitive, tender. He deepened it just enough to make it passionate without pushing her too far. It was the sort of romantic courtship kiss that a young girl might day dream about.

â€¨And Syn felt absolutely nothing.

After a few moments he released her and she eased back onto flat feet. She offered him a forced smile and nodded. "Goodnight, Prince Thor," she said softly, then let herself into her room, trying not to take in his look of confusion.

Her room connected to Boe's on one side, and she didn't even pause before marching over and knocking on his door. Unless they were naked and mid coitus she needed to talk to him, and possibly Colm. He wasn't good with emotion, but he had good advice.

To her relief, her brother called "Come in!" and she marched forward. Colm and Boe were both there, to her relief, Boe lounging on a chaise with his stocking feet up on the arm of the chair. Colm looked every inch the farmer he might have been, sitting by the window with the local newspaper and puffing on a pipe.

"I kissed Thor," she announced after a brief glance around to ensure her mother wasn't there.

Boe blinked and Colm sighed, folding his paper. "How was it?" her brother asked.

"Not nearly as good as it was when I kissed Loki."

There was another, longer pause, then Boe reached out with a foot to nudge an ornate chair closer to her. "Sit. Talk."

She sank gratefully into the chair. "Four days ago Loki found me in the library and we talked and he kissed me. Today Thor took me to dinner and I kissed him when he walked me back to my room."

"And Loki's was better than Thor's?" There was only the slightest dab of lasciviousness in her brother's tone. Why couldn't she get a brother who wasn't interested in the details of her romantic life?

"I can't denounce either of their techniques," she said, trying not to sound prim. If it was just the two of them she might have let him talk her into giving details, but she was well aware Colm did not want to hear any of them. "They were both perfectly serviceable kisses. It's just that Loki's left me warm and shivering and speechless and Thor's. . . did not."

The men exchanged a look that at any other time she would have found completely adorable. Clearly they knew exactly what she meant. "What happened after?" Colm asked her.

"After?"

"After Loki kissed you in the library. What happened next. I assume he didn't then tup you amongst the romances."

Syn felt her cheeks heat. "He apologized, scrambled to his feet and fled. I have not seen him since."

Another understanding look passed between the two men. Boe smirked and Colm shook his head. "Ah. Poor man's got it bad."

"Why'd you kiss him?" Boe asked. "Thor, tonight? You've been very resistant to the idea of marrying him up until now."

She sighed and rubbed her head. "I don't know. We had a very lovely dinner. He seemed to actually be interested in me rather than just performing a role."

"And you were hoping it would make you feel the same things Loki's kiss did?"

She sighed and nodded, leaning back in the chair and covering face with a pillow. "What am I going to do? I'm supposed to marry Thor." Funny how ten minutes ago she was almost okay with the idea. Now the thought sent her into a panic.

"Well, to start I'd pick a brother to stop kissing."

She lifted the corner of the pillow to glare at her brother. "Yes, thank you, dear."

Colm got up and strolled closer, lifting Boe's legs to sit and put them in his lap. "I think you need to have a chat with Loki."

"About not kissing?" she muttered.

"About possibly more kissing," Boe chimed in. "And if you're lucky, more than kissing."

Now she lowered the pillow and looked at the two of them. "I'm supposed to marry Thor."

Colm clicked his tongue and tilted his head. "Bad luck to marry a man whose brother gives you shivers, love. Good or bad."

Syn put her pillow in her lap and picked at a loose thread at the seam. "I could grow to love him."

"Possibly," Boe said kindly. "I could have had great affection for some poor girl Mother and Father foisted off on me, if I'd been a little less honest with myself. But I don't think I ever would have loved her, the way I love Colm. And I know I never would have been really happy."

Colm rubbed Boe's leg and gave him a smile. "You need to talk to Loki. Sort it out with him before you know where it can go with Thor."

"It was just one kiss," she protested, hugging the pillow. And a dance. But she wasn't going to bring up the dance. "It isn't like I'm in love with him."

"Tell me again after a few more kisses," Boe said, earning a swat on the shin from Colm. "Right. Being helpful. I'm no expert and despite appearances I'm not a romantic. I don't believe in love at first sight or anything like that. But I believe in trusting your gut. And if one man makes you warm and speechless and the other one sends you running to us for advice, I'd say your gut prefers the first one."

"Yeah." She sighed and thumped her head against the pillow. "This is a mess."

"Well, we rather knew it would be. This is just a slightly different one than expected."


	5. Chapter 5

"-and then she shut the door in my face. I couldn't even get a word out!" Thor flopped onto the couch next to Loki, making him grunt a little as the cushion beneath him resettled.

Fandral laughed and paced by, handing Thor a mug of ale. "You probably overwhelmed the girl. They make them a bit frail in Alfheim."

Thor huffed out a disbelieving breath and slugged back some of his drink. " _She_ kissed _me_."

Loki couldn't help but think of Syn's reaction to his kiss, which had clearly been more positive than Thor's. It had taken all the self control he had not to go in for a second one. And he was quite certain she would have more than welcomed it.

"Was it a good kiss?" Volstagg joked from his lounge. "Maybe you're not as skilled as you thought."

"It was an excellent kiss," Thor said over Fandral's laughter. "I've never had a complaint before." The protest just resulted in further laughter.

Loki deeply wished he hadn't agreed to join his brother for a drink. Had he known it would involve Thor's romantic travails with Syn, and the two loudest of the Warriors, he probably would have declined.

"You're overthinking it," Volstagg said when the laughter had quieted. "It was a first kiss. They're usually a bit awkward. Give her a little time and try again."

The mental image of Thor kissing Syn again caused a flare of rage to ignite in Loki's chest. He gritted his teeth and ignored it. He would need to get used to that, he supposed.

"What say you, brother?" Thor asked, gesturing in Loki's general direction with his mug of ale.

"I'm afraid I can't be of much help," he replied, keeping his tone bland. "I've never had a door slammed in my face for a mere kiss." The other men laughed and Thor groaned, shaking his head.

With that successful blow, Loki was planning his escape when they were interrupted by a servant at the door. "My lord Princes. The Allfather requests your presence in his private chamber."

That might possibly be the only thing less pleasant than his current situation. Loki briefly entertained the idea of refusing to go. But Thor was already finishing his drink and getting to his feet, so Loki did the same. It probably wasn't him Father wanted to yell at anyway.

Sure enough, the first thing Odin said when they reached the room was, "How long does it take to woo a princess?"

Thor spread his hands, as if wishing he had his hammer to help defend himself. "Did you want me to get her pregnant and barefoot the first week?"

"I wanted to announce a formal engagement by the summer ball. We're almost halfway there and I've nothing to announce."

This clearly did not involve him at all, so Loki decided to find a good seat for spectating. He draped himself in the lounge across the room from his mother to best view her facial expressions. She was currently sitting ramrod straight, hands folded in her lap, looking vaguely exasperated.

He tried to picture what she'd been like young, when she first married Odin. Had she always sat with demure hands waiting for a good time to calmly interject. Or would she stand toe to toe, arguing her husband to a standstill. Until he couldn't believe he'd disagreed with her in the first place.

He was entirely sure what kind of wife Syn would be.

"-vital that this arrangement ends favorably." Right. Father was still ranting.

"And what if it doesn't Father?" Thor now sounded as exasperated as Mother looked. "Will I be sent to the dungeons? Or hung on the Tree as a warning to others?"Â 

"You need a wife to rule. You're too much like me. I won't see you make the same mistakes."

"And what if I decide Syn and I don't suit? What if I don't want to be married just yet?"

Loki felt his brows raise. He'd suspected that was the case, but didn't think Thor would ever have the guts to say it to Father's face. He glanced at Mother and was surprised to see she looked proud.

Odin, on the other hand, was a shade of red Loki hadn't seen on his face since he was a child still tricking Thor with snakes. "Then I will deny you the crown and. . . live forever."

"That's your second choice plan?" Loki asked. "Immortality?" He leaned back in his seat, lounging in faux ease. "No one ever thinks of the crown and mentions Loki, why is that?"

Father turned on him, Thor momentarily forgotten. It was a tactic Loki had used a thousand times. Be just irritating enough to take the ire off of Thor for a moment, so he could regroup and continue more calmly. Thor and their father were both fire, when they met in anger it ended poorly. Loki had learned at a young age that a sliver of ice was sometimes necessary.

At least this particular time he was actually annoyed.

"You're to be Thor's advisor," Odin said, with dangerous quiet. Thor usually got his rage. Loki almost always got the deadly calm. "Is that not power enough?"

"It's not the power I want," he replied with equal calm. "It's the mention I miss." He got to his feet, no longer in the mood to play this game. "You wouldn't think I'd want that, would you?" He nodded to his mother, feeling a pang at her now distressed expression, and let himself out.

He found himself outside in the gardens. The summer heat had been suffocating the last few days, but with the dark had come a measure of reprieve. Loki hated the heat, and found summer occasionally unbearable.

A stroll through the gardens usually settled his temper. The garden was very much his mother's domain, his father could likely kill a plant with a look, and since it was almost always his father he was upset with, going somewhere that didn't remind him of the man helped. Tonight, however, it was more than his father that was on his mind.

He should never have kissed her. He was smarter than that. He planned things three steps ahead. And yet, he couldn't say he wouldn't do it again, if given the chance. She was lovely and clever and drew him in a way he couldn't really explain. He had examined the feeling as much as he was capable of, and he didn't think it had anything to do with jealousy of his brother. This was about him, and no one else. And he really wasn't used to that.

So lost was he in his thoughts that he didn't immediately notice the other figure on the path until she was almost upon him. And then he recognized Syn by her scent first. The warm spring scent of flowers and herbs, that reminded him of the apothecary shop in the healing halls.

"Loki," she said quietly and he stopped, bracing himself for whatever conversation was about to occur. "You look perturbed."

"My father is on a bit of a rampage," he admitted, finding no desire to lie to her at the moment. "I found myself in need of a bit of peace."

She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Is that a hint to leave you be out here?"

"No," he said, probably too quickly. "I find your company quite welcome."

The smile widened, twisting up more on one side than the other. "I'm happy to hear that."

He studied her in the evening light. The air felt heavy between them and his heart was beating in his ears. "Perhaps it's best if we talk honestly."

"I'm hardly capable of speaking any other way," she teased him. She stepped lightly to the side and turned so they were facing the same way. He took a step and she fell in next to him. "Difficult conversations are easier when you don't have to look at each other."

Loki gave a grunt of agreement and they walked in silence for a time. He was still formulating what, exactly, he wanted to say when Syn spoke.

"Why are you never satisfied?" she asked quietly.

He knew he'd live to regret that little bon mot. He spent a moment trying to think of a way to spin it, then remembered she would be able to see right through him. With a sigh, he said, "I am angry. Almost all the time."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

Feeling a bit like he was taking a casual step off an enormous cliff, he told her the greatest secret in Asgard. "I'm a Jotun. Odin took me during the last war on Jotunheim. I was never a wanted second son, but a political chess piece. To be thrown out onto the field in case of another Jotun war."

Silence stretched, till he couldn't bear it any longer and risked glancing at her. He expected a look of horror, or disgust. But she only looked thoughtful, as if she was still absorbing his words.

"You don't entirely believe that," she said finally. "About being a chess piece. You are, apparently Jotun, though oddly enough, you look perfectly Asgardian to me."

That was. . . interesting. And something he'd never thought of before. Her family saw lies in everything. It was odd that whatever glamour Odin had attached to him as an infant seemed to defy even that.

"Odin claims he took me because I was an infant left in the cold and he couldn't, in good conscience, leave me there."

"And you don't want to believe that?"

"I believed it as a child, less so now. He is not, as a general rule, a sentimental person. Political machinations are much more in character."

"He is a father, though," she pointed out. "And you would not have been much younger than Thor at the time." He looked at her and she shrugged with a gentle smile. "Both things can be true at once. I couldn't tell you for sure unless he spoke of it in front of me."

It had occurred to him, of course. Certainly it's what his mother wanted to believe. But Odin's motives and methods were never precisely black and white. Perhaps she had a point in suggesting there was a grey area between the best and worst interpretations.

"I must say, you're taking the news I'm secretly a monster quite well." He made a point to pitch his voice as lightly as possible, even though he knew it likely she'd see right through it.

"I'm still processing," she admitted. "As I said, it intrigues me that you don't appear Jotun to me at all."

"The Jotun war weapon, the Cask of Winters, sits in the Asgardian store room, if you have a burning desire to see me turn blue."

She glanced over at him and he couldn't read her expression. Though he suspected she might have said yes had he made the offer in good faith.

"You know, Alfheim has had trade relationships with Jotunheim for years," she said instead.

Trade agreements, for the most part, were not of interest to him, certainly not those of other realms. "I didn't think they had friendly relations with any of the realms."

Syn made a wordless sound, something noncommittal that managed to sound judgmental. "Jotunheim doesn't have any friendly relations with Asgard because they hate Odin. For the most part, they do not hate the other races, and so are willing to have mutually beneficial trade negotiations with them. They have mining resources to rival the Dwarves and make beautiful jewelry and art. In return, they get a large percentage of their produce from us in their winter, when hunting is scarce and little grows."

It was oddly destabilizing to think of Jotunheim as just like any of the other realms. Making art and in need of food. They had always only been the monsters in the shadows of his childhood stories. "I suppose that puts them in a slightly different light."

"I've never been to Jotunheim, and the Jotuns who have come to the palace for negotiations have usually been rather stern and taciturn, but not frightening in any way." He felt her brush her hand against his, as if she might have held it but thought better of it. "I'm sorry you were abandoned as a child. I'm sorry you doubt your father's love for you. But I do not look at you any differently because of what I now know."

Loki had to swallow a few times before he could speak. "Well, that's good to know. Though I don't think many others would be as sanguine as you."

Another one of those wordless noises, before she seemed to brighten. "In any case, your mother certainly loves you as her own," Syn said. "That must count for something."

Loki felt something loosen inside of him. It was odd, because he hadn't realized any part of him doubted his mother's love for him. Clearly something had, because hearing Syn confirm it - completely independently - caused him a strong measure of relief.

"She does," he agreed. "She taught me everything she knows of magic and strategy. I am her son in the way Thor is very much my father's."

Syn nodded in understanding, reaching up to stroke the petals of a tree they passed beneath. "I don't know whose daughter I am. Boe is enough like our father you can ignore the differences. But I am nothing like my mother and little like my father. I put my whole heart into being a devout daughter and the dutiful princess they expect of me. But time and again I fall short."

Here, then, was the crux of the matter finally. "They wish for you to marry Thor, quietly and obediently."

"Yes. I've tried very hard to want that too. He's a good man. Handsome, kind. I'd be queen of the realms, treated well. It's possible for love to spring from such an arrangement."

The "but" lingered silently in the air. They had reached the end of the path, in a courtyard dominated by a large snow blossom tree with multiple other paths branching out. She slowed to a stop and he joined her, skin sizzling with tension.

"I even tried kissing Thor," she said, looking up at him. "In the hope it would make me feel the way I did when you kissed me."

Here again, he stood at the edge of a cliff. Only this time, he felt as if she was holding his hand and would either jump with him or give him a final shove. "And did it?" he forced himself to ask.

"No," she said quietly. "Not remotely." She reached out and touched his chest, pinching the edge of his doublet between her thumb and forefinger and fidgeting it to sit better. "So once again I fear I'm going to be a disappointment to my parents."

"Ah, well." His voice sounded low and thick to his own ears. "I'm a disappointment myself. Perhaps we can keep each other company."

She smiled that lopsided smile of hers and met his gaze. "I do enjoy your company."

Somehow they were kissing again, though Loki couldn't have said for certain which of them moved first. She was warm and soft, as she had been in the library. This time, however, he hadn't surprised her, so she was kissing him back immediately, eager and responsive.

Her arms wound around his neck and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms. Heat suffused him, skating over his skin. She was in an Asgardian style gown and went he shifted his hands over her back he felt bare skin. The touch made her shiver and he shifted back pulling his hand away. "I'm cold. I'm sorry-"

"Don't," she said, catching his hand and pulling it back to her waist. "I like it."

Anyone else he'd have been certain they were lying. He didn't understand what in the realms she could find pleasant about his chilled skin, but he was forced to believe her. "We shouldn't be doing this," he said. He didn't much care about "should" normally, but he was touching her and the truth seemed to spill out of him.

"I know," she said, fingers playing in his hair. "I actually came to tell you we needed to stay apart. But clearly . . ." She smiled and gestured rather helplessly.

"That would be the smart thing to do." Loki was not always good at doing the right thing, but he was a big believer in doing the smart thing. This was the woman his brother was meant to marry. The daughter of an ally of his father and a pawn in one of their intricate political arrangements. He should remove himself and stay as far away from her as possible until well after the honeymoon.

But she smelled of flowers in bloom and crisp clean sheets and she felt warm and snug against him. It was like holding a piece of summer in his arms, a sharp counterpoint to his chill. Inhaling her scent, he bent his head and rested it against hers.

"You seem to be the one thing in the realms that can make me act extremely stupid."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more chapters in the buffer for this one, but Christmas craziness slowed down my progress. Sorry for the delay in new chapter, hopefully we can get back to regular updates soon.

Syn would have happily stood out in the garden, kissing Loki, for the rest of the night. His kisses and touches sent all the same shivers and heat through her that they had the first time. She didn't think the fact it was a bad idea made it more arousing, but she had to concede it didn't make it any _less_ interesting either. His skin was chilled, even after several minutes of kissing, and he was as sturdy and strong as the tree trunk he eventually pressed her into.

This was not the smart thing to do, and they both knew it. They could talk all night about the reasons it was a terrible idea. It might hurt Thor, if he had somehow managed to convince himself he actually wanted to marry her. It had the potential to cause significant political upheaval in at least two realms. That was a great deal of risk to take, based on a few clever conversations and some very potent lust.

His hand was toying with the strap of her dress, a clear question in the gesture. And while she very much wanted him to tug it down and have clear access to her breast, she knew this really wasn't the time or place.

With a sigh, she broke the kiss. "I should get back to my room," she whispered. "Before my absence is noticed."

Loki made a sound that was rather like a growl, but nodded. "I would hate for your brother and guard to feel the need to come protect your honor."

She had to laugh. "They'd be more likely to clap you on the back and congratulate us. But we should still part company for the moment."

He nodded and kissed her again. "I concede to your wisdom."

"Meet me in the library tomorrow?" she asked, stroking a hand along his jaw.

He smiled and turned his head to kiss her palm. "I'll wait all day."

There was a promise in his voice. A promise that there would be more of this tomorrow in the library. They would need to talk, too. None of their problems were going to be solved with kissing. Fun as that might be.

They made a point to take separate paths out of the garden. Syn made her way back to the guest wing, passing a few servants but no one who gave her a second glance. She was extremely glad she didn't run into any members of her family, as they would almost certainly know she'd been up to something just by looking at her.

Once in her room, she debating telling her brother what had happened. But it was getting late and she didn't see any light under his door, so she decided it best to keep it until the morning.

It took her a long time to fall asleep and by the time she woke up her brother was gone, his room tidied by the castle servants. Her mother was also gone, though she'd apparently left a message to let Syn know she'd gone to visit some cousins and that Syn was off the hook for the day since she seemed "so tired" recently.

Syn didn't know if that last part had been sincere or passive aggressive, but she chose to take it at face value and went to fetch something for breakfast before heading to the library.

She had rather expected Loki to be waiting by the library door to pounce on her once she arrived. She was surprised, therefore, to find the library seemingly empty, lights dimmed as it was somehow closed for business.

"Loki?" she said as she slipped into the room. She'd intended to call out for him, but it came out a loud whisper. 

There was no response, but she felt a chill of magic brush past her. A glance behind her showed the door to the library now enveloped in an illusion. It was filmy and shimmery, too vague for her to tell exactly what it was, but it looked like it was somehow hiding the door. Or at least making it less interesting to anyone who might walk past.

So, clearly he was in here somewhere. She headed for the main stairs and found a note pinned to the newel, fastened with a dagger that dissolved in her hand when she touched it. The note was real enough, written is sharp, precise handwriting that must have made his tutors proud.

_Come and find me._

Grinning, she took a step back, looking up at the various stories and balconies stretching out above her. With a fling of her arm, she let loose a finding spell she'd cooked up as a child, trying to track Boe down for some bit of mischief. Dozens of little gold sparks filled the air, then zoomed away from her, racing down rows of shelves and up and down ladders, looking for Loki.

They began to gather up a few stories and she headed up two flights of stairs, then a spindly ladder of beaten metal, before finding him tucked in a well hidden alcove on the third story mezzanine, surrounded by her sparkles.

He smiled when he saw her, a slow, lazy smile that sent warmth pooling through her. "Clever trick," he said, gesturing at the lights.

"Clever game," she replied, sinking down to sit opposite him in the alcove. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

He gestured to the book he was reading. "It passed in a moment."

"I intended to be here bright and early, but I inadvertently slept in. It seems to have caused my family to abandon me, so perhaps it was for the best."

"Thor rode off with his friends to settle some unfortunate business in Vanaheim. He invited me to come along, but I told him I had a previous engagement." He smiled again, showing teeth. "It does mean he'll likely be gone a day or two."

She felt a jolt of excitement at the idea, followed quickly by a pang of guilt. She distracted herself a moment by resettling her skirt - Asgardian dresses had much less fabric to play with - before asking, "Are you two close?"

He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "I think we are closer now then we were as children. Adulthood and the responsibilities that came with it have settled him quite a lot. And, as you force me to be honest, maturity has brought me a more level head as well."

"I only force your honesty if I'm touching you," she reminded him with a smile.

"Maybe, but I find myself wanting to be honest with you. It's a new and uncomfortable sensation." He glanced up at her sparkling lights. "I used to hide in here, as a child. Away from my father's disapproval and what I thought was my brother's bullying."

She tilted her head. "He was cruel to you?"

Loki sighed. "It felt like it at the time, but with the benefit of experience I think he was trying to be friends and didn't know how to be. At least, not with someone smaller and more sensitive. Father very much believed in toughening us up, to the point it felt like he was pitting us against each other. Thor thrived and I did not. My mother eventually took me under her wing and helped me wield my magic, which gave me something to feel confident in. But even then, I never felt I measured up to Thor. Not until we were older and our strengths and weaknesses were clearer to see."

"I can see how some of your strengths as an adult would be written off as trouble making as a child."

"Oh, entirely. Have Thor tell you one of the snake stories some time."

She grinned. "He's told me three."

Loki laughed and nodded. "I assure you, there are many more." He leaned over and tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, fingers leaving streaks of cold on her skin. "What of you and your brother? You seem very close."

"We are," she said, smiling as she always did when she thought about her brother. "We're only a few years apart, closer than you and Thor, I think. We were essentially raised as twins. As children we were utterly inseparable. I played at war and forts with him and he played tea parties and dolls with me. It wasn't till we came of age that we spent much time separately."

"I wonder what it is," Loki said. "That makes one set of siblings so close and an other less so."

Syn considered it, idly rubbing the top of his foot where it lay next to her hip. "I think some of it was isolation. There weren't many other children our age we could play with. But I also think, even at a young age, we both knew Boe was . . . different, in some way. I remember always feeling protective of him. I was far more likely to beat up a bully for going after him than the other way around. As he grew up and realized he was attracted to men and not women, I was the first, and for a long time, only person he confided in." Truth be told, she had suspected long before he told her. She had been standing next to him the first time he saw Colm, a green army recruit several years older than them. He'd just finished drills on a hot summer day and had dumped a bucket of water over his head to cool off. She and Boe had been watching from the courtyard wall. When she'd looked over at her brother he might as well have had hearts in his eyes he was so besotted. It had taken them years to get together properly.

"How is that seen on Alfheim?" Loki asked, honest curiosity in his voice.

She sighed and waggled a hand. "It's accepted but not. . . talked about, I suppose you could say. I don't think I really knew anyone like that before Boe talked to me about it. Later we found out there were several families that had members in same sex relationships, but they weren't 'out' I suppose. Boe and Colm's relationship has brought it much more to the light. Other couples are more comfortable being in public. Dancing together, that sort of thing." She laughed a little. "Not that Colm likes dancing much."

Loki waved a hand, edging his foot away from her hand to say, "Nonsense, he seems the type to enjoy every eye in a room on him."

"Yes, almost as much as you do," she teased. He grinned at her and inclined his head in agreement. "What is Asgard's feelings on men loving men?" she asked him.

"Quite modern, actually. I've heard it's very common in the army to find comfort in the arms of a fellow soldier. If your brother was general of a battalion and Colm his right hand man no one would turn a hair at them sharing a tent. In civilian life it is rarely marked. I know of two female couples at court, one a pair of aging ladies my mother entertains on occasion, another younger and, if rumor is to be believed, looking to adopt. I do not know of any male couples in court, but I have it on good authority the palace baker has a husband that makes all the serving girls jealous."

She was not at all surprised that he knew both court and below stairs gossip. He was not a man to leave information undiscovered.

"Why did your brother hide so long?" Loki asked. "If there isn't any particular stigma against it?"

"Mostly he feared he'd disappoint our parents. He was the heir and would need to produce his own heir, someday. Being with a man complicates that, though of course there are options. In his more anxious moments he told me he thought Papa would forbid him from being with Colm and insist he marry and impregnate a woman."

"My father would absolutely do that," Loki said dryly.

"It's not _entirely_ outside the realm of possibility for mine," she admitted. "And he did bluster a bit. I specifically recall him saying without a legitimate heir Odin might step in and appoint one of his choosing. But there was never a hint that Boe be anyone but himself. And he and Colm live more or less openly at home." She smiled and leaned in to whisper, "I have it on good authority Boe will be proposing soon. But you mustn't breath a word to anyone until they've announced it."

Loki leaned forward and whispered back, "You have my word, princess."

He said it the way Colm said "prince" when he was teasing Boe. With tenderness and affection she hadn't known you could pack into a single word. It melted her heart and she leaned in to kiss him.

He returned the kiss, drawing her closer until she was in his lap, one hand stroking her cheek and cupping her throat. It was intimate and tender and different from the frantic kisses in the gardens.

After a long while, they parted slightly, Loki nuzzling a spot below her ear.

"I do like you," Syn murmured with a sigh.  
He chuckled, the sound low and rumbly in his chest. "I should certainly hope so." He punctuated that with another nuzzle and kiss against her throat.

"Not just this," she said, playing with his hair. "This is lust and chemistry. It's lovely, and important, but it's like bubbles in champagne. It can fade, leaving a sour taste in its wake. I _like_ you. I like talking to you and learning about you and your childhood. I like that you ask me questions and really listen to my answers." He had leaned back to look at her and she brushed his hair back out of his face, cupping his cheek. "That's far less likely to fade. Don't you think?"

He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head a moment. "No. I don't expect any of this is going to fade. If I did I'd remove myself from the palace until you and Thor had sorted yourselves out. Instead I'm hiring raiders to make trouble in Vanaheim to distract him."

She sat up to look at him. "Loki!"

A muscle in his jaw flexed. "Damn your truth curse."

"You _hired_ people to make trouble for your brother to fix?"

He held up his hands, palm out to her. "In my defense they are legitimately bad men who I'm sure would have gotten themselves into trouble eventually. I just sped up the inevitable."

"You're unbelievable." And efficient. They'd been kissing in the garden well into the night and he'd clearly been here waiting for her long before she woke up. That didn't leave him a lot of time to arrange an excuse for Thor to be off world.

"You could take it as a compliment," Loki offered with a grin that he clearly thought would get him out of trouble.

She crossed her arms and made an attempt to glare at him, but it didn't last long. "Don't do it again," she told him sternly, mouth threatening to twitch up into a smile.

"You have my word," he assured her, tugging her close to kiss her again.

Syn let the kissing go on for a few minutes, then leaned back again. "We need to talk about what we're going to do. About Thor and this arrangement and. . . everything."

"I know," he said on a sigh, rubbing her arm idly. "I just. . . wanted a few days to be with you, without having to worry."

She felt a pang and leaned into his side. "I understand. I appreciate the thought, if not the execution."

They sat in silence a few moments, then he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "I do not know Thor's true feelings towards you or this expected marriage. Every time I ask, I get a different answer. But I will make you an agreement. For the next two days, we pretend as if he doesn't exist. We meet and talk and explore what this. . . pull between us means. And when he returns for Vanaheim, we'll speak honestly with him and try to work something out."

It was oh, so tempting. Two days to, in essence, be someone else. To talk to him and kiss him and whatever else she wished with no guilt. Or, at least, the illusion of no guilt. And perhaps it was the right answer. A little breathing room to explore her attraction to him might give her some sort of clarity.

"I accept your terms," she said finally, lifting her head to kiss him. "Two days, then we make some sort of attempt to sort this out." He grinned widely, looking as if he knew he'd won something. "Do you have any suggestions on what to do with our glorious two days?" she asked.

"A place to start, at least. Would you care to go for a ride in the woods? I think getting out of the palace would do us both some good."

It was hotter than Muspelheim outside, and her riding clothes were stifling. But getting out of the palace and away from prying eyes was incredibly appealing. So she nodded. "I'll meet you at the stables?"

"I'll be waiting."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went on a migraine preventative and turns out I've had some level of low-lying headache for like, six months? At least? And that's gone now.
> 
> It's also an anti-depressant, so that's probably helping, too.
> 
> All that to say I'm working on this again so yay!

This was madness.

Loki had known it was madness when he'd made the suggestion, and again when she'd agreed. Pretending things weren't as they were had never done him any good at all. And he wasn't sure he could relax and enjoy her company while the threat of his brother's hurt and father's anger loomed in the future. If anyone caught them or found them alone together it would be the end of them.

But clearly, it was what he wanted. And with his little truth teller in his arms, it was the only thing he could think to say.

And now he stood outside the stable with two horses ready and mounted, prepared for a day in the woods with her. Ironic, he supposed, that they would have more privacy out in the wide world than they would here in his home.

Which was why, of course, this was madness. Considering how little self control he had around her when they had only the illusion of privacy, actual privacy was exceptionally dangerous.

But now she was walking across the courtyard, in a dark blue tunic with intricate gold embroidery and fawn colored leggings and he knew there was no going back. Wherever this path lay, he was following it to the end. And he was going to enjoy every moment of it as he did so.

"Princess," he greeted her when she reached him. "Right on time."

"Always," she told him. "When it's somewhere I want to be." She reached for the rein he held out to her and murmured something to the horse as she stroked its muzzle. "You have shadows on your face, Loki. Having second thoughts about our ride?"

He was never going to be able to hide anything from her. The thought should cause panic in him, but instead he felt oddly affectionate towards her. "I'm just thinking of all the ways this could go wrong."

She arched a brow and smiled at him. "Are any of them fun?"

"Several of them," he assured her, aware his voice had gone a few octaves deeper.

"Well, then." She kicked a foot into her stirrup and hauled herself into the saddle with easy grace. "Let's be on with it."

She was going to be the death of him. But it would be a very sweet death. He pulled himself up into his own saddle and led her out of the courtyard.

His brother rarely ventured into the woods without the excuse of hunting, either for food and sport or to conquer some sort of monster. Loki, in contrast, had spent many days in his youth just exploring and enjoying the Asgardian forest. His mother occasionally requested a plant or flower of some sort, but he could easily turn that into a whole day adventure. His suggestion to come out here with Syn hadn't been idle. He wanted the privacy, and knew where to get it. But he also had the urge to show her some of his favorite places and share the peace and quiet of the woods with her.

They rode in silence, until they were deep in the woods, until the palace was no longer visible through the thick canopy of trees and the only sounds were the birds and beasts around them.

"It's very peaceful here," Syn said, slowing her mount to take in their surroundings.

"We're not quite to the heart of the forest," he replied. "You can still run into a hunter here and there. But we are farther than most dare go."

"Is it dangerous?" she asked. "Or just not of interest to most Asgardians?"

"A bit of both, I think. It's easy to get lost, once you get far enough from the path. And the woods are big enough that you can be lost a long time."

She looked over at him. "Are we headed for the heart of the forest?"

"A little past it, actually. There's something I want to show you."

That didn't seem to surprise her at all. She just smiled and guided her horse into step beside his.

The woods around them grew darker and when they spoke it was in the hushed tones one normally reserved for a holy place. She asked him what some of the trees were or commented on a particularly unique bird call.

Finally, they reached their destination, at the eastern edge of the wood, as far from the palace as you could get without leaving Asgard. It was a small clearing with a pool that spilled down a small water fall into a shallower pond, that then dripped off the edge of the realm. It was fed by a stream meandering down from the golden mountains and the water was always cool and refreshing. This close to the star sea, it was always twilight and the water itself was lit with rainbow colors reflecting off the quartz veined through the rocks. It was a stunning place, which very few people knew of. One of the last great secrets of Asgard.

He watched Syn's face as she took it in, slowly dismounting. The look of awe and wonder he saw there made whatever was coming next worth it.

She made her way across the clearing, boots sinking into the soft, untrod grass, to crouch by the pool and dip her hand in. Sparkling clear water dripped from her fingertips, reflecting like jewels in the otherworldly light. For a long moment she stared out at the star sea, before standing and heading back to him. "This is beautiful."

"I've never brought anyone here before," he admitted. The smile she gave him in response seemed to make her glow.

Loki cleared his throat and started to unpack his saddle bags. "I brought some food, if you'd like to rest and have a picnic."

"That sounds lovely." She took the blanket he handed her and spread it out on the grass not far from the water, with a panoramic view of the stars beyond.

He brought over the carefully wrapped dishes he'd gotten from the kitchen - complete with a knowing, mischievous look from the cook - and set them down, unwrapping them one at a time. It was a meal meant to be eaten with hands - cut fruit, bread and cheese, slices of smoked meat and a few pots of jam and spice to smear on top. He uncorked the bottle of ale he'd tossed in and they busied themselves snacking for a few moments.

Syn paused to peel her riding boots off and dig her toes into the plush grass before turning back to him. "How did you find this place?"

He shrugged, sucking a bit of jam off his thumb. "Stumbled across it one day. I spent a great deal of time out here in the woods, exploring, I know many of her secrets."

Her expression turned canny and she reached over to grab the ale bottle and take a swig. "What were you running away from?"

"It varied," he admitted, not at all surprised she'd seen through him. "Mostly training. I hated weapons training with Thor."

Now she looked surprised. "Surely you know how to fight." She said it as a fact, as if she wouldn't accept any other answer.

"I do now, but that's mostly my mother's doing. Once she realized I had magic she taught me to fight like she does. Blending magic and weapons to the best efficiency. Before that my father and trainers were trying to teach me to fight like Thor does. And I was smaller than him and not built for the sort of moves they were focusing on."

Understanding filled her eyes and she nodded. "When I demanded to learn how to fight, they had to hunt everywhere to find someone who could do it properly."

"I'm surprised they let you learn."

"I'm very convincing when I want to be," she told him with a grin. "And surprisingly enough, my father was in favor of it. He thought a princess should be able to defend herself. My mother was the one who hesitated. Thought it was unladylike."

Loki wondered if her father realized a woman who could fight and shoot a bow would be a plus to Thor when the marriage contract came around, but he didn't say it. He refused to let that particular problem shadow this day. Besides, she was a clever girl, she'd almost certainly thought of it herself. "Your brother said you're better with a bow than he is."

She smeared jam on a thick piece of bread before placing a slice of soft cheese on top. "Boe has no patience. He likes the sword and the axe. Get up close and bloody. I can sit in a perch for hours waiting for my shot."

He watched her take a big bite and chew a moment, flummoxed at how incredibly arousing he found it, before regaining his wits. "Do you only use the bow?"

"I'm also proficient in the staff," she told him, eyeing him like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"That can be up close and bloody in its own right."

"Not if you do it right."

"I trained in knives," he told her, reaching for the ale jug.

Her brow twitched up. "That is possibly the _most_ up close and bloody."

"Well, I am at my best one on one."

She chuckled and reached for a slice of butter apple. "This is flirting worthy of an Asgardian poet."

He ducked his head. "My courtship is not usually about weaponry. But you did bring it up."

"Fair enough." She shifted to lay on her stomach, biting into her fruit. "How would you prefer to court me?"

He pretended to think about it, looking down at her munching her apple. "I suppose poems and ballads would be too trite?"

"Mmm, indeed. And tried a million times before. It's how one normally courts a princess, after all."

"I see. And you'd expect me to be inventive."

"At the very least."

"In that case I suppose winning you over with great deeds would similarly fail."

She tilted her head. "Impressed though I would be if you slew a dragon, I don't think it's the best way to my heart."

"In that case, I suppose I would think on it very thoroughly, and decide that there isn't nearly enough privacy at the palace. So I would then invite you to come out with me. And I would take you somewhere private. Some secret place I was loath to share with anyone, but happy to bring you to." She was watching him with interest now, so he decided to throw in a touch of poetry, just for fun. "Because you are the only thing I have ever seen that is more beautiful than this place."

Her brow twitched again. She could say more with that brow than most courtesans could with a month of love letters. She popped the last bite of fruit in her mouth and sucked the juice off her thumb before rolling up off her stomach to her knees. "That is an excellent start," she told him before leaning in to kiss him.

Kissing her felt different, every time. Now there was a certain exhilaration to it, whether because they were outside or because there was little chance of being found, so their options were more open. She seemed to feel it, too, climbing into his lap as the kiss deepened. He let his hands grow a little urgent, crushing the soft fabric of her tunic as he explored her back.

She worked one hand under his shirt, the heat of her skin searing his back. He was suddenly intensely glad he'd forgone his more complicated leathers for just a tunic and jacket. She'd never have found her way under his usual attire.

"Your clothing is maddening," she murmured against his mouth. "I've never met a man with clothing more complicated than mine."

He had to chuckle, though with her so firmly in his lap, it was a little strained. "And here I was just thinking I'd done well in choosing my outfit for the day."

"It's better than usual," she conceded. "I especially love the tantalizing glimpse here." She stroked the narrow V of exposed skin at his throat.

Loki had started this day not entirely sure where it would lead. He had hoped she was as wound up as he was, but had told himself he'd be content with some kissing and flirting without the risk of an audience. She was a princess, after all, and betrothed to someone else. She was not the usual courtesan throwing herself at the king's son.

However, currently, she was rocking on him as eagerly as any girl he'd bedded and he was quickly losing his ability to think straight.

After a few more minutes of kissing, she lifted her head. "Is the pool suitable for swimming?"

He blinked at her. "I'm sorry?"

"The pool," she repeated, easing away from him. "Can we swim in it? No poisonous plants tainting the water or giant monster at the bottom waiting for toes to nibble on?"

"No, nothing like that," he managed to say. "What sort of pools do they have in Alfheim?"

"Freezing cold, mountain fed ones," she replied, getting to her feet. He already missed the warmth of her against him. "I was more concerned with the kind of pools they have in Asgard."

He watched, rather dumbfounded, as she turned away and tugged her tunic up and off, revealing an expanse of pale skin, marred with a single scar on her shoulder. "I - I hadn't planned this when I - You don't-"

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, tugging the tie out of her braid so her hair could hang loose. "If you're suddenly struck with maidenly shyness, you can cover your eyes."

Loki scrambled to his feet, shrugging out of his jacket, watching with disbelief as she stepped out of her leggings and carefully stepped into the pool. The water was clear, hiding absolutely nothing as she dove in and swam to the center of the pool before surfacing, hair dark and slick against her scalp and neck.

He tugged off his shirt and pants, tripping a little in his eagerness to get his boots off. His usual grace seemed to have completely deserted him at the sight of her naked and treading water. The eerie half light made her look otherworldly, like some sort of nymph or siren luring him to his doom. And he happily splashed into the water towards it.

The water felt pleasant to him, which probably meant it was chilly for her. But she happily wrapped her arms around him and met him for a kiss when he reached her.

"Aren't you cold?" he murmured, spreading his hands on her back, tangling his fingers in the thick locks of her hair.

"Not a bit," she told him, fingers trailing along his shoulders and arms, leaving trails of fire. "Are you?"

"I'm never cold," he told her, nuzzling her jaw to take a breath of her scent. Even now, she felt warm to him, like holding a bit of sunshine in his arms.

Unable to resist any longer, he slid his hand along her back, along the line of her ribs, before cupping her breast. The nipple immediately peaked, tight and hard as he circled his thumb around it. Her breath quickened, fanning warm against his shoulder, and he shifted her, leaning down to take the bud in his mouth.

She gasped out his name, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help support herself. He moved backwards in the water, to get better footing, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep herself from floating away. Now the hottest part of her was pressed to his stomach and he came very close to losing himself right there in the water.

This was, by any reasonable measure, a terrible idea. This was a line they were not going to be able to go back across. There would be no way he could step back and watch her marry his brother if they kept on like this. And that wasn't even contemplating what would happen to her and her truth curse if anyone asked questions or suspected anything.

But maybe that was the point. Maybe it was time to cross the line and stop pretending this was going to go away. Lust or love or something in between, there was something here. Something that made the idea of her marrying Thor and ignoring it the rest of their lives simply ludicrous. She was his. He wanted this, wanted her body and her mind. Wanted to spend hours taking her apart and then analyzing whatever book she was reading. Wanted to hear her talk about plants and bird song and the latest trouble her brother had gotten up to. That would be true no matter what happened in the next few minutes.

Coming to a decision, he released her breast and kissed her again, wrapping both arms around her and walking for shore. She made a noise of complaint when air hit her wet skin and he broke the kiss long enough to tell her, "If we're going to do this, I am going to do it properly."

She smiled, and he had the sense she had come to the decision he had a long time ago, and was pleased he'd joined her. "You haven't been doing it properly before?"

"I confess, madam, you surprised me." He knelt, laying her down on their picnic blanket. "I've gathered my wits now."

She stroked his jaw, affection in her eyes. "And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow will handle tomorrow," he told her, bending to kiss her breast, then the dip of her navel. "Today is ours."

Her whole body seemed to relax with a sigh and she twined her fingers into his hair as he moved farther down her body. She opened her legs wide for him when he nudged, and he guided them over his shoulders so he had all the room and access he needed, then leaned in to kiss her there at the core of her sex. She shuddered at the first brush of his mouth and he found himself groaning at how wet she was, and it had nothing to do with their dip in the pond.

He took his time, exploring her with his tongue, tasting every inch. She tasted as sweet and earthy as she smelled, and he thought he could easily get addicted to this. He wondered if she'd let him spend the rest of the day here, teasing her.

It quickly became clear she likely wouldn't, as her hands were tightening in his hair painfully. He took it as a compliment, as well as an urging to get on with it, and zeroed in on her clit. Closing his lips around the hard nub, he sucked hard and lapped rapidly with his tongue. At the same time he slipped two fingers into her slick heat, tapping against her walls as he thrust.

With a sharp tug on his hair and a cry, she arched and started to shake. He could feel her clenching on his fingers and pulsing against his lips and tongue. He licked her lazily, drawing out the pleasure for her, until she tugged sharply on his hair and he relented, moving back up her body to kiss her mouth.

She cradled his hips with her legs, kissing him thoroughly, licking her tasted off his tongue. "You have a very talented mouth, Prince," she murmured.

"Why thank you." He kissed her against, rocking his hips to drag the head of his cock along her folds. "It was my pleasure. And yours."

"Don't be too smug," she told him, lifting her hips to meet his next stroke. "We're not quite done yet."

She was blazing hot, and so incredibly enticing, how could he resist? He slid a hand down, tugging her leg up a bit further on his hip, then began to sink slowly into her. 

Loki didn't consider himself an innocent in this area, by any means. He was a prince, and charming, and handsomer than average, so he had never lacked for bedroom company, even with Thor as competition. This, however, was something different. It was intense, and powerful and perfect. Sliding into her and burying his face in her shoulder felt like coming home.

For a few heartbeats, he stayed still, not entirely sure he could hold onto his control if he moved. Syn seemed to understand, pressing gentle kisses to his temple and stroking his hair. She trembled beneath him, tiny pulses of pleasure squeezing him where he was seated inside her. 

Finally, he gathered himself and pushed up onto his elbows and began to move, slow, lazy thrusts. The friction was intense and as much as he wanted to make this last forever, he found his pace quickening and strengthening despite himself.

Syn didn't seem to mind at all, arching to meet his strokes no matter the pace. She grew even hotter around him somehow, and he felt her begin to clench around him an instant before she gasped his name and bucked her hips, a second orgasm rolling through her.

He couldn't contain himself, the feel of her shaking and pulsing around him too much for his self control. He pounded into her a few times, rough and wild, before joining her, spilling his pleasure into her heat.

Heart pounding, he sank down onto her, no longer certain his arms would hold him. Syn's arms wrapped around him and she pressed her face into the side of his throat. He rested his head beside hers on the blanket and they lay in silence for a long stretch. The air was still and quiet, the only sound their mingled heavy breathing.

They separated in stages, slowly untangling until he lay on his back beside her, her head resting on his shoulder and one leg curled around his. It was warm and still, even nude, but he conjured a cloak to cover them.

Playing idly with her hair, he broke the silence by murmuring, "You're beautiful."

"Funny," she said. "I was just thinking the same about you." He scoffed and she tapped his chest. "I'm serious. You're perfect. Like something carved from marble and come to life."

"Marble?" he asked, letting a hand wander down her back to cup her rear. "I should think ice would be more accurate."

She squeaked, then gave him a sly smile. "You're warm when it matters," she told him, before stretching up to kiss him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her to his chest. He didn't think there was any part of him that was warm, certainly not the way she was. But perhaps with her he could pretend.


End file.
